


Perhaps Love

by simpleandpure22



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Borussia Dortmund, Fluff, M/M, durmann
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpleandpure22/pseuds/simpleandpure22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonas always thinks that Erik is special, but he keeps telling himself that it's not love.<br/>It can't be love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perhaps Love

**Author's Note:**

> Another Durmann fic :D This time it's not an angst. And it's not about Jonas leaving either XD

Erik is beautiful.

It’s not hard to notice. The first thing that Jonas noticed when he saw Erik was his smile. Then his big, greenish eyes, followed by his rosy cheeks, which Jonas thought was nothing but adorable. At that time they were still both BVB II players. Jonas was supposed to only see him as a fellow player; or a decent guy who was likable and had a potential to be his good friend. But Erik has become more than that. He’s always more than that.

Now both of them have been promoted to the senior team and Jonas still finds that he often lets his gaze linger on Erik longer than it should. He can’t explain the pleasant feeling he gets when Erik is around either. Jonas starts to get worried. He can’t like Erik, can he? Not more than a friend. He’s sure that he prefers girls; he’s dated a couple of girls before. So what is this warmth he feels whenever Erik grins at him?

Erik seems oblivious. He knows nothing about Jonas’s struggles. Otherwise he wouldn’t give him those tight hugs, or kiss Jonas’s neck after he scored a goal, whispering “Well done, Jonas,” in his ear with a hoarse voice, sending a shiver down Jonas’s spine. Jonas has to pull away from him, or else he might do something utterly stupid—like kissing Erik for example, there and then on the pitch… Yeah, bad bad idea.

He has tried not to spend so much time with Erik, lining up beside Papa or Nuri or anyone else but Erik, while listening to Klopp’s instructions during trainings. But it doesn’t work. Erik still comes to him after the training, if they didn’t get a chance to talk before. The blond will cheerfully tell Jonas about everything; from his cousin’s children to the new PC game he just bought the other day. Erik won’t leave him alone, and Jonas doesn’t have the heart to push him away.

How can he, when he actually enjoys listening to his blond friend? Perhaps a bit more than he should. The urge to touch Erik’s face when he is close grows stronger every day that it frightens Jonas. What the fuck is happening to him?

_It’s perhaps love?_

Oh, come on. Jonas can’t be in love with Erik—his friend. He just can’t.

As if to prove himself wrong, Jonas goes out with someone. A girl called Anja, who works at a coffee shop near the stadium. She likes him, he can tell. Jonas does feel bad about using her, in a way, but he convinces himself that he’ll fall for her, after he gets to know her better.

Two weeks have passed, and nothing has changed. Jonas still can’t see Anja as something more than a friend. But he holds on, telling himself over and over that perhaps he needs more time; that they’re getting there.

But it seems like Anja can feel that not the whole Jonas’s heart is in it. She tells him that she really likes him, but she can sense that she’s not the one he needs. It’s not long before Jonas finds another one. A pretty, brunette girl called Katja. Unlike Anja, Katja doesn’t want a serious relationship. She tells Jonas she’s greatly attracted to him, but she doesn’t want to be someone’s girlfriend. So, their relationship is purely about casual sex, no strings attached, which is fine by Jonas.

None of his teammates know that. They all think he and Katja are really a couple. One day after an afternoon training, Erik and Jonas are the only ones left in the changing room. Normally Jonas doesn’t allow himself to look at Erik for too long, but lately he’s noticed that his friend seems rather different, seems slightly distracted. Even now he’s uncharacteristically quiet.

“You’re okay, mate?” Jonas asks. He just needs to know why Erik was acting like that.

Erik who sits down on the bench next to him merely shrugs, giving Jonas a half smile.

“You look distracted lately,” Jonas goes on, untying his shoelace. “You’re not in love, are you?” he asks, meaning it to be a joke. Erik doesn’t reply. Jonas’s hands suddenly feel cold. “…Are you?” He turns to look at the blond.

“I guess so,” Erik replies softly, his cheeks redden.

It’s hard for Jonas to keep his voice calm, but he somehow manages to do it. “Okay. Who is she? Someone I know?”

After a long second, Erik says, “It’s not a she.”

The air around Jonas seems to be heavier. “I see. Someone in the team?” he tries to make his tone light. “Is it Manni? He’s not bad. Or Marco?” Jonas forces a laugh.

Erik doesn’t laugh. “It’s not Manni,” he says solemnly, looking straight into Jonas’s eyes. “Not Marco either.”

The way Erik looks at him makes Jonas feel uneasy. He wants to look away, but he can’t. In the end he’s saved by his phone. “Got to read this,” he tells Erik and hastily clicks the message open. It’s from Katja, reminding him to meet her at her place at around eight o’clock. For the first time, Jonas is genuinely glad to get a text from her.

Erik is still looking at him, so Jonas clears his throat and says in a tone that he hopes sounds casual, “It’s Katja. She reminds me that I have promised to meet her later.”

Erik nods, still unusually quiet. “Do you really like her?” he asks, out of the blue.

“…Of course,” Jonas lies, can’t bring himself to tell Erik that they’re merely friends with benefits—or fuck buddies, as people may put it. “She’s great.” He rises from the bench, collecting his shoes from the floor and says, “Well, going to take a shower.” He smiles briefly and leaves to grab a towel from his locker. He takes his time in the shower, enjoying the hot water on his skin. He tries not to think about what Erik said, but his mind won’t comply. So, Erik likes boys… And he’s someone in the team. The question is who?

When Jonas comes back to his locker later, Erik is gone.

***

Jonas can’t shake his conversation with Erik off his mind. He bumps into Zlatan outside the changing room and asks him if he’s seen Erik. “Yeah, he said he was going home,” the goalkeeper says, zipping up his hoodie a bit more. “What’s wrong?”

Jonas hesitates. He doesn’t know how much Zlatan knows about Erik’s weird behaviour, and the fact that he’s in love. Zlatan narrows his eyes as he looks at Jonas. “Have you just found out? It sure takes you long enough,” he tells Jonas merrily, patting on his back.

“What? That Erik likes someone in the team?” Jonas asks, puzzled. So, Zlatan also knows about it.

Zlatan grins. “Isn’t it obvious, mate? So, when will you ask him out? Or has he asked you out?”

Jonas is even more confused. Why should he ask Erik out? As if… _Oh_ , _fuck._ Jonas curses inwardly as the realisation dawns on him. “I’m the one that he likes,” he murmurs, more to himself.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know that sooner,” Zlatan says, looking genuinely surprised.

Perhaps because Jonas was so busy trying to convince himself that he isn’t in love with Erik, that he failed to notice that Erik also saw him as more than a friend. “Thanks, mate,” Jonas tells Zlatan, making his way to the parking lot.

“Where are you going?” Jonas hears Zlatan say behind him.

“To Erik’s place. I’m going to fix this,” Jonas replies, stopping to look at his friend. Zlatan merely gives him a nod and a smile.

When he sits inside his car, Jonas remembers that he has promised to meet Katja. He looks at the phone in his hand. She knows about Erik. Not literally, of course. She’s guessed that Jonas has someone else in his mind, and Jonas told her about Erik. She’ll probably miss him; correction—she’ll probably miss the sex, but she’ll be fine.

He presses her number and waits.

***

“Is it me?” Jonas blurts out the moment Erik opens the door. As the blond looks at him in confusion Jonas says again, in a much gentler tone, “Am I the one you like?”

Erik blushes furiously, but he holds Jonas’s gaze. “It has always been you, Jonas,” he says softly.

Jonas can’t stop the smile that’s spreading on his face. Erik, too, begins to smile, despite his still rosy cheeks. “I want to kiss you so badly, but it’s not a good idea to do it here, is it?” Jonas says, letting out a rather shaky laugh.

Erik chuckles, stepping back so Jonas can come in. “Come in.”

As soon as Erik closes the door, Jonas places his hands on each side of Erik’s face and kisses him, letting out a small moan as he feels the softness of Erik’s lips against his. He’s waited for so long for this. Erik’s hands clutch on the front of Jonas’s hoodie, pulling him even closer, if it’s possible.

“God, I always want to do this,” Jonas whispers when they pull away, gasping for air.

Instead of replying, Erik pulls Jonas’s head towards him and kisses him again. Jonas has to very reluctantly stop the kiss when he feels that his lower body begins to have a mind of its own. Erik moans in protest. Jonas strokes his cheek, saying, “If we don’t stop now I’m afraid our first time will be against the door, which is not what I prefer.”

“I don’t care to be honest…” Erik says softly, running his fingers on Jonas’s neck.

A groan escapes Jonas’s lips. “You’re not making it easier.”

“No,” the blond says, but there’s a glint in his eyes as he grins. He pecks on Jonas’s lips one more time and shifts. “Are you hungry? What do you say about pizza?”

“Pizza sounds good.” Jonas follows him inside the apartment.

Later when they sit side by side after dinner in front of the TV, with Jonas’s arm casually around Erik’s shoulder, Jonas can’t remember when the last time he felt this way; all warm and contented, heart swells with affection for the boy sitting beside him.

_It’s perhaps love?_

_No perhaps_ , Jonas thinks when he feels Erik’s arm against his side as the blond leans on him.

_It is love._

**Author's Note:**

> So, I promised myself to fill the Durmann tag ;) Haha, not quite, but I just love writing about these two :)  
> Hope you like it.


End file.
